<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>A Bloody Mystery by Tish</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27309238">A Bloody Mystery</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tish/pseuds/Tish'>Tish</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Terror (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Vampires, ill-treatment of a rat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-08 22:41:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>738</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27309238</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tish/pseuds/Tish</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hickey has a flea in his ear over a series of mysterious bite marks.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Trick or Treat Exchange 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Bloody Mystery</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/skazka/gifts">skazka</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">“Cornelius, you really do talk bollocks, sometimes.” For all his seeming meekness, Billy's tongue could still cut like a knife.</p><p class="western">Hickey sat back upon the bed, muttering in frustration. “Look, it's the only explanation. Sore necks, the rash, bite marks.”</p><p class="western">“Fleas. Lord knows that dog keeps scratching everywhere,” Billy replied, trying to resist scratching at an imaginary itch that suddenly sprang up in his arm.</p><p class="western">Hickey threw up his hands, swallowing back a yell, “I'm telling you, it's not fleas, Billy.”</p><p class="western">“Go on, go tell Doctor McDonald, then,” Billy was amused, infuriatingly so.</p><p class="western">“I'm going to get to the bottom of this, mark my words,” Hickey declared as he stood up, shoving his way past Billy.</p><p class="western">Billy grabbed him, his tone softening. “Look, I'll tell you, but you can't let on that you know.”</p><p class="western">Hickey glared down at Billy's hand, surprised at the grip. “Don't fuck me around.”</p><p class="western">Billy leaned in, tilting his head down so that Hickey could feel his breath on his skin. It was oddly cold, he thought, distracted by Billy's kiss.</p><p class="western">v----v</p><p class="western">Hickey woke to voices above him, and he found himself slumped awkwardly on Billy's bed, the hard edges of a book poking into his inner thigh, and the fleeting shape of Lt. Irving as he left the doorway.</p><p class="western">Taking the book away, Jopson shook Hickey's shoulder. “Mr. Hickey, sorry to break up your little book club, but Lt. Irving says you have duty owing.”</p><p class="western">Hickey stared up at Jopson, trying to work out how Jopson's polite voice could convey so much sarcasm. It then occurred to him that his neck was feeling very sore, and he pressed a palm against it, feeling what appeared to be puncture marks. Leaping up to inspect himself in Billy's mirror, Hickey scraped at his neck. “Fleas, my arse!”</p><p class="western">Jopson frowned and peered into Hickey's reflection. “They hang around rats, Mr. Hickey,” he said with that same innocent tone. “Down in the hold,” he added, pointing to the floor as he placed the book back on Billy's bed.</p><p class="western">“Yes, I know where the rats are, Jopson,” Hickey snapped, still clawing at his skin, making it redder than before. “There's something peculiar going on here.”</p><p class="western">“Mr. Hickey, there's work needs doing, and you're the one chosen by Lt. Irving to do it. So, hold. Now,” Jopson said, still in that reasonable tone.</p><p class="western">Hickey stomped away, resisting the urge to punch Jopson, muttering, <em>Captain's pet</em> under his breath as he went down the steps. He fumed silently as he went, nearly leaping from his skin as something metallic scraped behind him. Turning, he saw Jopson tug at the recalcitrant storeroom door. It occurred to him that he hadn't actually heard Jopson's footsteps behind him, and that he seemed to glide inside the small room.</p><p class="western">Further thought was cut off as Lt. Irving suddenly loomed ahead of him. <em>Is everyone wearing slippers today?</em> Hickey found himself thinking, just before everything went black.</p><p class="western">v----v</p><p class="western">"He tastes strange, this one,” Irving complained, wiping his mouth as Jopson propped Hickey's unconscious form against a sack.</p><p class="western">Jopson stood and dabbed at Irving's bloody mouth with a cloth. “Poor quality meat, sir. I don't know how he got through Lt. Hodgson's screening before first muster.”</p><p class="western">Irving nudged Hickey with his boot. “I suppose we shall have to make do with what little we have out here.”</p><p class="western">“At least Lt. Little is of a high standard, sir,” Jopson reassured him.</p><p class="western">“Yes, though you may wish to mention to Mr. Gibson that he pay closer attention to his shaving routine when attending to the lieutenant,” Irving dabbed at his own neck, adding with a sigh, “I find that the muttonchops tend to get in the way of feeding.”</p><p class="western">Jopson suppressed a laugh. “Very good, sir. Now, I'll take care of Mr. Hickey if you're satisfied?”</p><p class="western">v----v</p><p class="western">Hickey woke with a jerk, groaning as he looked up into Lt. Little's face. He looked grumpy and tired as he glared down at Hickey.</p><p class="western">“This is the third time this month, Hickey,” Little said wearily, rubbing his neck. “I know we're all tired, but there's a line.”</p><p class="western">Hickey struggled to his feet, pressing a hand against his own aching neck. “Did they get you, too, sir?”</p><p class="western">“What? Who?” Little pinched the bridge of his nose. “Is this a ridiculous attempt to avoid punishment?”</p><p class="western">The words slipped from Hickey's lips, and he instantly regretted them. “The vampires, sir!”</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>